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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23114983">Convention and Curiosity; or, Fear and Fervour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew'>stew (julie)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, The Professionals (TV 1977)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Regency, Forbidden Love, Jane Austen - Freeform, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>1990-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>1990-07-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:14:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23114983</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie’s Uncle James is insisting on him marrying, but Bodie is reluctant. How can any woman appeal when compared to the wonderful Mrs Darcy…? On his first visit to Pemberley, Bodie finds that the Darcys’ bachelor friend Mr Doyle is of exactly the same opinion.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>William Bodie/Ray Doyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Convention and Curiosity; or, Fear and Fervour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><strong>First published:</strong> in the zine ‘Other Times and Places’ #1 from OTP Press in 1990. I was madly into writing Professionals AU, so as far as I was concerned ‘Other Times and Places’ was a zine made in heaven!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Convention and Curiosity </h1>
<h2>or, Fear and Fervour </h2>
<p>♦</p>
<p>It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in  want of a wife must, at Mrs Elizabeth Darcy’s feet, learn to have high  expectations.</p>
<p>While, to my Uncle James’s annoyance, I continued to view  marriage as a necessary evil which did not need to be rushed into, when an  acquaintance offered to make me a part of his party travelling to Pemberley, Darcy’s  house in Derbyshire, I accepted with an alacrity born of sheer curiosity.</p>
<p>‘Mr Bodie,’ Mrs Cox, the wife of my acquaintance said,  leaning forward to perhaps let me examine the embroidered detailing on her low-cut  bodice, ‘I am so glad that you will join us, sir. I always think that  travelling together is by far the best way to really get to know a friend.’ </p>
<p><em>Travelling</em> together, Mrs Cox? ‘Delightful,’ I agreed. ‘And Mrs Darcy will not mind you  bringing a stranger to her house?’ </p>
<p>‘Her generosity is legendary, and I am sure <em>you</em> will not embarrass us.’ Mrs Cox  batted her eyelids at me, emphasising her words with the point of her needle  against my thigh. ‘As for all that, I have only met Mrs Darcy briefly, at our  wedding service. It is Cox who is their particular friend.’ </p>
<p>‘Many of Mrs Darcy’s qualities are legendary…’ At my musing  words, I caught a jealous gleam in Mrs Cox’s eyes. ‘She is said to be,’ I continued,  standing to join Mr Cox at the mantelpiece, ‘all that is perfection in a woman  and a wife.’ </p>
<p>‘Yes,’ Cox agreed, eyeing his own wife with a little  dissatisfaction. ‘I’d have no quarrel with that description.’ </p>
<p>‘Sir, you are not very gallant!’ </p>
<p>I left Mr and Mrs Cox to their domestic bliss, and walked  back to my townhouse. That is another thing that annoys my uncle – that I walk  the London streets. I have told him hair-raising stories of Lisbon streets, Cairo  streets to prove how tame our own are, but he never seems to find my comparisons  edifying. </p>
<p>I could, however, understand his worries. Uncle James had  been the youngest son born into a family burgeoning in both descendants and prosperity,  but by the time he’d come of age, an amazing run of bad luck had curtailed the  dynasty. Of my uncle’s five brothers and sisters, only two had borne children  before dying. My only cousin had been drowned along with her parents when the  ship they had taken for France a few years previously had been wrecked. The  remaining Bodie fortune, following some poor luck in that area as well, was  more than sufficient to keep two bachelors in style, but my uncle was relying  on my charms alone to enable me to make a sensible and profitable marriage. </p>
<p>Other than my unwillingness to court the young ladies Uncle  James kept introducing me to, the family’s ill luck seemed to have passed me  by. This only made my uncle even more nervous, especially when I would not lead  the restrained and quiet life he would have preferred. ‘You’re tempting fate, William,’  he would lecture me. I bore his worries with as good a grace as a thirty-year-old  man can muster when being treated like a child who needs the back of his  nursemaid’s hand. </p>
<p>At least Uncle James approved of my visit to Pemberley. ‘Two  of the Bennett sisters are still unwed,’ he pointedly told me, ‘though as to  fortune, they are not so eligible. Unfortunately, I don’t expect you’d be  likely to attract the young Darcy girl.’ I sighed, and assured him I would look  into the whole matter. </p>
<p>It was ten days later when I at last made the acquaintance  of Mrs Elizabeth Darcy and her elder sister, Mrs Jane Bingley. Their  reputations had not done them justice, I was forced to admit. If I had met  these ladies before Fitzwilliam Darcy and Charles Bingley had snapped them up, then  Uncle James would have had no cause to complain of my tardiness when it came to  the game of courtship. As it was, I settled into Pemberley to happily learn  more of these enchanting and entertaining creatures. </p>
<p>One morning, perhaps two days later, Mr Darcy had asked me  to accompany him on a ride around his estates. He was pleasant company, being  an intelligent and cultured man – though my uncle would have loved him best for  his restraint, I couldn’t help but reflect, unable to hide the ungenerous smile  that threatened me. </p>
<p>Mr Darcy, catching me out, smiled in return, his eyes  sparking at some thought. ‘Mr Bodie, I am afraid that I have some rather bad  news for you.’</p>
<p>‘Sir?’</p>
<p>His smile deepened. ‘Unfortunately you will no longer be  allowed to monopolise the attentions of my wife and her sister.’ </p>
<p>It was difficult to know exactly how to reply to that. At  least he wasn’t acting the jealous husband; I’ve seen enough of them to easily  recognise the symptoms. Unless under all that reserve and coolness… I could  tell from Mrs Darcy alone that still waters, in her husband’s case, could run very  deep. Eventually I said, as lightly as I felt appropriate, ‘Sir, you break my  heart.’ </p>
<p>‘It is not I who will distract them from you, Mr Bodie,’  Darcy continued, as close to laughing at me as I could imagine him ever being. ‘A  friend of theirs will be arriving today, to complete our party – a Mr Doyle. He  is a charming man, Mr Bodie, and I fear will prove strong competition.’ </p>
<p>‘Alas,’ I replied, with a surprising element of regret, ‘it  is a competition that you and Mr Bingley have already won. The rest of us may only  envy you.’ </p>
<p>He bowed in acceptance of the compliment, and we rode on. </p>
<p>When we eventually returned to the house, Darcy and I left  the horses with the groom and walked directly to the morning room. From  outside, we could distinctly hear Mrs Darcy’s delightful laughter. Darcy raised  an amused eyebrow at me before letting us in. </p>
<p>‘Raymond, you are wicked,’ Mrs Bingley was complaining,  trying not to join in Mrs Darcy’s amusement. </p>
<p>‘<em>Me</em> wicked, Jane?  I was sorely used through the entire incident. I fancy that the lady was the  wicked party in the tale.’ </p>
<p>‘Mr Doyle,’ Darcy said, ‘are you telling the ladies  inappropriate stories again? Some of your tales that Elizabeth has related to  me, made <em>me</em> blush.’ </p>
<p>‘Fitzwilliam! How are you?’ Doyle came over to shake Darcy’s  hand enthusiastically. </p>
<p>‘You find me very well. Allow me to introduce a friend of Mr  Cox – Mr William Bodie, this is Mr Raymond Doyle.’ </p>
<p>‘Pleased to make your acquaintance,’ he said, shaking my  hand in turn. </p>
<p>‘The pleasure is mine,’ I responded automatically, taking  him in with a sweep of my eyes. It was easy to see why the ladies were  indulgent – Doyle had a fine slim figure, a head of unruly auburn curls and  wide-set green eyes. His face, though not handsome, was captivating in its unusualness,  and his manner was open and engaging. </p>
<p>‘You mustn’t judge me immediately, Mr Bodie,’ Doyle was  saying. ‘Our host and hostess will have you believing me to be a very  inappropriate person to be brought to your notice.’ </p>
<p>‘Then I will reserve my judgement until I can do you  justice, sir.’ </p>
<p>It didn’t take long to become more familiar with Doyle’s  character, as the two of us spent most of our time together with Mrs Darcy and  Mrs Bingley, playfully vying for their attention. The ladies seemed to enjoy our  company and our mock battle, and were very even-handed and proper in dispensing  their favours. Doyle began to believe that he had a serious rival for their  friendship. </p>
<p>‘Anyone could see,’ he said one night as we sat up late and  alone over port and cigars, ‘that you would have less trouble in gaining Mrs  Cox’s indulgence.’ </p>
<p>‘It might be an easy task, my friend, but the rewards do not  tempt me. Besides, Cox is a friend.’ </p>
<p>‘Scruples, Bodie? You surprise me.’ </p>
<p>‘I have a few. As do you.’ </p>
<p>‘And particular tastes – Mrs Cox is a pretty enough woman  but, like you, I prefer to press my chances elsewhere.’ </p>
<p>‘You have far too many of those scruples to take advantage  of your welcome here, Doyle – don’t pretend otherwise. You are not about to  attempt an intrigue with either of the ladies.’ </p>
<p>‘And I would never be successful if I did make the attempt.’  He shrugged, acknowledging the truth with a wide smile. ‘I have good friends  here, that is why I love Pemberley. I take my pleasures elsewhere.’ </p>
<p>‘So I hear. That story about the lady at Covington, for  instance… How much of that do you owe to your imagination?’ </p>
<p>‘None! In fact, I left out some of the particularly  interesting details, due to the fair listener’s delicate ears. Even Mrs Darcy  can be shocked.’ It didn’t take much coaxing to have him tell me the full  story. And then I told him about one of my escapades. And so it went on for an  hour or more. ‘Last time I stayed here, there was a serving girl at the inn in  Lambton who –’ </p>
<p>‘When I was in Cairo, there was this dance the girls would  do that even startled me, until –’ </p>
<p>‘– she was only sixteen, and as innocent as a child, but she  wanted what she barely knew about. All it took was a kiss one evening –’ </p>
<p>Finally, stupefied by the late hour and by having found someone  who could more than match all my adventures with the fairer sex, I blurted out,  ‘There was this young man in a brothel in Athens –’ and came to an abrupt halt. </p>
<p>‘Well, Mr Bodie, you have the advantage of me there,’ Doyle  said lightly into the silence. ‘I do believe that you’ve won this little  contest.’ </p>
<p>I found my voice with an effort. ‘I apologise for mentioning  such a matter.’ </p>
<p>‘But you are probably talking to the one person in the  household who would be interested in hearing the story.’ </p>
<p>I met his gaze for a long moment – he seemed as easy and  friendly as he had always been. </p>
<p>‘Why, Bodie, you look pale as death.’ </p>
<p>‘I had better retire.’ I stood, a little shakily. </p>
<p>‘I assure you, sir, you have no need to doubt my friendship.  Nothing we have spoken about tonight will be heard by any other.’ </p>
<p>‘Forgive me,’ I said uncomfortably, ‘but this was something  that I discovered in Europe. And I thought that I had left it there.’ </p>
<p>‘I confess that it is something that has aroused my  curiosity ere now. Will you not tell me the story?’ </p>
<p>‘No.’ I walked to the door before remembering my manners. ‘Good  night, sir. I thank you for your company.’ </p>
<p>‘Good night, Bodie.’ </p>
<p>I lay awake for most of the night, wondering at my mindless  blunder and its possible consequences. The following morning, my natural  discomfort at being in Doyle’s company again only worsened my unrested  appearance. </p>
<p>‘Are you not well, Mr Bodie?’ Mrs Darcy enquired as I sat by  her with a smaller breakfast than I usually indulged myself with. ‘I fear you  might not wish to accompany us on our outing today.’ </p>
<p>‘No, it is simply that I did not sleep well, thank you,’ I  hastily replied. ‘I am sure the fresh air will do me good.’ Anything rather  than mope around in a strange house, I thought. </p>
<p>‘I am afraid that I kept Bodie up rather late last night,  along with your excellent port, Fitzwilliam. It is all my fault, ladies, that <em>one</em> of your admirers is not looking at  his most handsome this morning.’ </p>
<p>‘I wonder what your motive could have been, Raymond,’ Darcy  commented dryly. </p>
<p>‘It does not matter, because he did not succeed,’ Mrs Darcy  said archly. ‘Never mind, Mr Bodie. We will ply Doyle with hock at our picnic  luncheon, and see how <em>he</em> looks  afterwards.’ </p>
<p>‘Elizabeth!’ Doyle cried. ‘You were never this wicked to me  before now.’ </p>
<p>While I was looking and feeling so dull, it was further  insult to injury to observe that Doyle’s bottle green velvet riding coat only  enhanced the brilliancy of his emerald eyes. </p>
<p>I concentrated on my breakfast, and when the travelling  arrangements for our outing were discussed, gratefully volunteered to ride. So  it was that the ladies and Cox took an open carriage, Darcy and Doyle rode  behind them, deep in conversation, and I followed alone a little way further back. </p>
<p>Despite my restless night, the beautiful countryside and the  fresh Summer day began to relieve my gloom. By the time the party had reached  its destination, I had regained my composure and my smile. </p>
<p>We settled on a grassy slope, in the shade of some oaks, the  ladies gracefully seated on blankets. Within a few minutes Cox asked Darcy to walk  down to the nearby river with him, no doubt to see whether it was worth  unpacking his fishing tackle after our luncheon. </p>
<p>‘I’d like to stretch my legs, too, if you’ll give me leave,  ladies,’ Doyle said. </p>
<p>‘Why, Raymond, it is not like you to not take advantage of  our husbands’ absence,’ Mrs Darcy laughed. ‘You mean to let Mr Bodie have our  full attention?’ </p>
<p>‘Actually, I thought I would invite him to accompany me.’ </p>
<p>‘Well, then be on your way, gentlemen. But mind you be back  within the hour, or we will have your share of the luncheon.’ </p>
<p>Doyle stood from where he’d been kneeling by Mrs Darcy. ‘Coming,  Bodie?’ </p>
<p>‘Sir.’ I bowed to the ladies and followed him up through the  oaks behind us. We had soon topped the rise and wandered down into the valley  beyond. </p>
<p>‘A beautiful area, is it not?’ </p>
<p>‘Yes, indeed.’ We walked on, content and comfortable enough  to not continue with the polite conversation that others found necessary. Content,  that is, until I heard footsteps and an exclamation behind us. ‘Mrs Cox!’ I  hissed at Doyle. </p>
<p>‘Oh lord.’ Looking around, he quickly took my arm and pulled  me through some thicker undergrowth and out of sight. He lifted a finger to his  lips, smiling widely, as we listened to Mrs Cox approach and then pass by our hiding  place. My companion’s now familiar features were most attractive when diffused  with such wicked merriment. It was long minutes before the intruder passed out  of our hearing, and then more before he spoke. ‘She is determined to win you  over, Bodie.’ </p>
<p>‘She’ll soon learn what determination is,’ I muttered. </p>
<p>‘You are not very generous, sir,’ he said, only half in  mockery. </p>
<p>‘Doyle, she must be quite mad to run around after me like  this. The ladies, and Mr Cox if he returns in her absence, will know exactly  her purpose. She will at best embarrass herself, and at worst…’ </p>
<p>‘The credit is of course owing to your overwhelming  attractions,’ Doyle said lightly. </p>
<p>‘Very amusing,’ I responded. He smiled at me again, and  beckoned me to walk again in another direction. For the hour allotted us, we  wandered the countryside, talking as if we only had that much time left in  which to become better acquainted. I could only be grateful that Doyle was  still prepared to regard me as a gentleman. ‘And how is it that you never  married?’ he asked as we turned to make our way back to the rest of the party. ‘Are  you such a confirmed old bachelor?’ </p>
<p>‘I would consider myself to be still in the market for a  wife, although I suppose at thirty years of age, I should soon be starting to  search in earnest. My uncle would like it.’ </p>
<p>‘Most uncles would. And what would you be searching for?’ </p>
<p>‘I’m afraid I must be governed by prudent motives, Mr Doyle –  the lady must be well endowed in more than character and beauty.’ </p>
<p>‘Despite being a younger son, I am happy to say that I do  not have to take that into consideration.’ </p>
<p>‘Then you have a wider field to choose from. How is it that <em>you</em> have not married?’ </p>
<p>‘There was a girl, I confess, when I was nineteen, that I  wanted to marry. But the match wasn’t considered to be the best possible by  either of our families, and it did not eventuate. I think I was a little in  love with her, but was too stupid to try to engage her affections without my  family’s consent. I didn’t start looking around again for some years, and when  I did, I found there to be one major problem.’ </p>
<p>‘What was that?’ </p>
<p>‘Why, all the girls come out into society at sixteen, and  are considered old maids at twenty if they are not married. There are precious  few unmarried ladies of our own age who are eligible for consideration, and I’ve  never met a sixteen-year-old girl yet that I could live with.’ </p>
<p>‘All I have to do is look at some poor fool like Cox, and I  feel I may never oblige my uncle.’ </p>
<p>‘We understand each other well, Bodie.’ We exchanged a  satisfied smile, though his expression faded after a moment. ‘But do you never  feel lonely? That seems to be the only drawback to being single. Friends and  family I have in plenty, but I often wonder if I am missing something that  Darcy, for instance, has in abundance.’ </p>
<p>‘No need to wonder at that – Darcy has definitely more  happiness in his life than you or I. But women such as Mrs Darcy are few and  far between. We must simply hope to meet such as there are.’ </p>
<p>‘I am convinced there are none that are not already married.’ </p>
<p>I laughed. ‘You are too pessimistic by half, Doyle. There  must be some sensible women of your acquaintance, or who could be introduced to  you, who are still single. If the means of marrying have been wanting, it does not  necessarily follow that the woman is ineligible. You might even suppose that  such women as we would admire, may not be considered suitable by a great many  other men.’ He remained silent. ‘Come, if all else fails, there are many young  widows in the world. And as for the girls but lately come out, there must be  some who are acceptable – I have heard that Miss Darcy herself is a mature  woman, though only just turned nineteen.’</p>
<p>‘Ah, but Darcy takes prodigious care not to recommend me to  her.’ Doyle shot me a mischievous glance, but I refused to be diverted. ‘All  right, you have found me out, sir. These are excuses that my family and friends  find plausible, and I repeat them whenever necessary.’ </p>
<p>‘Let me hear the truth, then.’ </p>
<p>‘In truth, I own that I have as sentimental a nature as a  girl still in the school room. I could love someone, I could unite our souls,  but I see this sort of love occur so little in the conventional marriage, that  I cannot believe the institution would suit me.’ </p>
<p>‘Where else, then, would you find such love?’ </p>
<p>‘I do not have the first idea,’ he replied, his spirits  growing depressed for the first time since I had met him. ‘Maybe I will  continue to throw some measure of my emotions away in trifling affairs that do  not touch my heart, and when I die whatever remains will make my spirit  restless. Will you like my ghost to haunt you, Bodie?’ </p>
<p>I hardly knew how to answer his sorry attempt at humour. We  continued in silence as we neared the rest of the party and sat down by them.  Doyle’s unhappiness could not go unnoticed by the others for long. ‘Whatever  have you done to Raymond, Mr Bodie?’ Mrs Darcy enquired. ‘This is very unlike him.’ </p>
<p>‘We were speaking of all the misfortunes of being single. I  feel quite dispirited myself.’ </p>
<p>‘Misfortunes?’ Darcy exclaimed. ‘I thought rather that the  pair of you enjoyed the state immensely.’ </p>
<p>I thought that I had left us open to some teasing, but the  others soon talked of more cheerful topics. As for me, I bore Doyle’s silence  and brooding gaze with understanding. He looked particularly well that day, despite  his woebegone expression, as the ladies all noticed, especially when he threw  himself back to lay amongst the grass. But then, possessing such a slim figure  which could only be shown to advantage by such snugly fitting trousers, he was  bound to draw attention. </p>
<p>He rode beside me on the way home. ‘I must conclude that  friendship is the only answer to my troubles. Friends such as you and the  Darcys provide me with joy.’ </p>
<p>‘It is kind of you to say so,’ I replied, bowing a little. </p>
<p>‘It is kinder of you to indulge my moods, sir. But I have  changed my mind. When I die, I think I shall haunt Pemberley – it is so  comfortable. You must promise to visit me there!’ </p>
<p>It was perhaps three days later that I found myself sitting  up late with Doyle again, but over Darcy’s excellent brandy this time. I was a  little melancholy, as my visit to Pemberley was drawing to a close. Mr and Mrs Cox  were due to return to London in two days, and I must accompany them. </p>
<p>‘I hope that we may see each other in London, Bodie. Are you  living there now?’ </p>
<p>‘Yes, my uncle is tending to our estate alone this season.  And yourself?’ </p>
<p>‘Yes, I will be in London. After my disappointment with the  ladies at nineteen, I went to Oxford and studied the law. I work for a few  months of every year – I am not quite such a creature of leisure as you may  have supposed.’ </p>
<p>‘Do you enjoy London or the country best?’ </p>
<p>‘I enjoy them equally for three months at a time, and then I  become restless for wherever I am not.’ I laughed at these feelings which so coincided  with mine. ‘But I must own,’ Doyle continued, ‘there are more pleasures of a certain  sort to be found in the city. You must find it so.’ He waited for my agreement,  and topped up our glasses of brandy. ‘That matter you mentioned the other  night,’ he began. ‘The more unconventional pleasures to be found in Europe. You  will not like me for raising it again.’ </p>
<p>‘Your curiosity leads you to strange topics of conversation,  sir. Unwelcome topics.’ </p>
<p>‘Will you not indulge my curiosity? Though you will think me  a peculiar kind of friend if I insist, I know.’ My silence only encouraged him.  ‘I wondered if you had really wanted to leave such things behind. There are establishments  in London that I know of –’ </p>
<p>‘Why do you not indulge your curiosity there, then, and quit  plaguing me about it?’ </p>
<p>‘I wondered if it was not simply embarrassment that made you  avoid the topic.’ </p>
<p>‘What else would it be, sir?’ </p>
<p>‘Perhaps that some part of you wishes not to leave it  behind.’ </p>
<p>‘You are trying my patience.’ </p>
<p>‘I feel that the topic has been much on your mind lately.’ </p>
<p>‘Because I could not believe my foolishness in introducing  it in the first place. I have been understandably uncomfortable.’ </p>
<p>‘There was a reason, was there not, for the idea springing  to your mind?’ I shook my head in the negative. ‘Allow me for the moment to  trust that there was. Sir,’ he said gently, as if about to break some bad news  to me, ‘you and I, we are not made for the conventional life, for marriage and such.  We agree, at least, on that.’ </p>
<p>I met his direct gaze with difficulty. ‘You now know what we  are made for, then?’ </p>
<p>‘I was hoping to explore a theory of mine, to see if we  might not be made for each other.’ </p>
<p>My head reeled. This was possibly the very last thing that I  had ever thought to hear in an English dining room. It was only when I placed  Doyle firmly out of my sight, by removing to stand by the mantelpiece, that I could  find enough voice to reply. ‘And what put such a thought into your head, sir?’ </p>
<p>‘It is purely logical, Bodie. I hoped that <em>I</em> had brought the idea to your mind when  first you saw me – you seemed very admiring, and there had to be a reason for  your confession a few nights later, however unwittingly it was made. The  feelings that I had had previously for other men, even though I had not found  the courage or the means to indulge them as you have, made me realise what my  hopes were based on. The fact is, my friend, that I find you to be the most  attractive man of all my acquaintance. And, while neither of us will avoid a  pretty lady, we seem most disinclined to marry any. All this could lead me to  but one conclusion – that we may stand a fair chance of making each other  happy.’ </p>
<p>‘Is that so? I do not follow your logic, sir.’ </p>
<p>‘Do not, or <em>will</em> not?’ His voice sounded close behind me, and I stiffened at its caressing tone.  ‘You are needlessly stubborn about the whole issue.’ </p>
<p>‘Then find the logical reason for my stubbornness. I cannot  make you happy, I cannot give you any sort of love other than my friendship. <em>That</em> I give you freely, sir, if you will  only drop this conversation.’ </p>
<p>‘I have seen you watch me, with an expression that I cannot  place any other interpretation on. You are a gentleman – of course you struggle  against that which society tells you is wrong. But I tell you that what we might  find together could not be wrong, if <em>we</em> are happy. Will you not try what I offer, and then make your decision as to  which is the most wrong? All I ask is that you give me a chance.’ </p>
<p>‘If you are my friend, Raymond,’ I said over the labouring  of my heart, ‘you will do me the honour of taking my refusal as my final word  on the matter, and you will not mention this again.’ </p>
<p>‘William, permit me to insist –’ he started. </p>
<p>‘No,’ I said firmly. I turned to face him. ‘And if you are  my friend, you will not call me William – just Bodie will do nicely. It rings  clearer in my ears.’ </p>
<p>‘Do not dismiss me like this. I am convinced that our  happiness may depend on each other. Will you not take me seriously?’ </p>
<p>‘I do take you seriously. It is simply that I cannot comply  with your request. It is you who will not take <em>me</em> seriously.’ </p>
<p>‘I cannot help but think that if I touched you now, your  arguments would be forgotten. That gives me the courage to continue.’ </p>
<p>‘If you will insist on such proof of my indifference, I urge  you to take it.’ I stared at him with eyes of steel. It was a bluff, I could  finally acknowledge that to myself, but I was an excellent poker player and I  had successfully bluffed harder men than Doyle. </p>
<p>‘You would treat me so coldly?’ he asked quietly. ‘And yet I  still believe in your love for me. I cannot believe you so rigidly bound in convention  that you mean to throw me off just to remain unhappy but acceptable to society.’ </p>
<p>‘Try me, and you hurt only yourself.’ To his credit, he did  not falter, though tears had sprung to his eyes. My last words were a lie, of  course – his hurt caused me pain. I had hardly known my own character until  that moment, but knowing is not necessarily accepting. </p>
<p>I kept my stony composure as his hand slid across my waist,  as he drew closer, as he pressed a kiss to my cold cheek. Even as he wrapped  both arms around me, eased his long body against mine. </p>
<p>But as his caresses grew bolder, I found that I was not  quite the poker player I had thought, and I abruptly broke away from his  embrace. ‘It is ludicrous to even consider this here, in Pemberley, in England!  You insult your friends by touching me under their roof. You propose that we  start a liaison that would be illegal. How exactly were you going to arrange  it? I, for one, do not wish to leave myself open to blackmail from my servants and  acquaintances. I do not wish to risk going to gaol in such disgrace.’ </p>
<p>‘We would have to be very careful, I know. Perhaps we could  spend some time overseas, where we would not be breaking the law. I had hoped  that we could live together in London. Bodie, there would be problems, but they  would not be insurmountable. Other people do this, you know, and lead quite  normal lives.’ </p>
<p>‘You must be mad.’ </p>
<p>‘A little feverish, maybe. I put it down to being in love.’ </p>
<p>‘Raymond, you are too disconcerting –’ I turned away again,  trying to breathe deeply enough to calm myself. ‘Can we at least wait to  discuss this further? Will you meet me in London, at my townhouse perhaps? This  is the wrong place entirely, and I am in no mood to be brave at present.’ </p>
<p>‘Of course,’ he replied softly, more sure of me than I was  myself. ‘All I wanted tonight was that you should acknowledge the feelings that  we share.’ </p>
<p>‘I do acknowledge those feelings,’ I said, aware as I did so  that I had changed the course of my life irrevocably. My voice was at its most  formal when it should have been warm. ‘But if you would allow me some time to myself,  if you would let me retire now, I would be grateful.’ </p>
<p>He was silent for a moment, before whispering, ‘Just,  please, touch me before we part. So that when I wake I won’t think that this  was just a dream.’ </p>
<p>‘Your friends would be disgusted if they knew their dining  room was so polluted.’ </p>
<p>‘If they had the first idea of how I feel for you, of how  happy you will make me, I think they might understand.’ </p>
<p>‘Are you insane? If you turn this into one of your tales to  entertain Mrs Darcy…’ </p>
<p>‘Don’t think me so incautious, Bodie. We both know how  secret this has to be. You have no need to fear me, I promise.’ And he  continued, voice low and unwittingly seductive. ‘Touch me, so that I can  remember your love until we can meet in London.’ </p>
<p>I turned to face him, and allowed myself for the first time  to truly see his beauty. He was as bewitching by candlelight as he was by  sunlight, by moonlight, by firelight. ‘Come here,’ I invited. When he drew  close, I enfolded him in my arms and kissed him full on his generous mouth.  Raymond was more intoxicating in person than my banished dreams of him had even  come close to. I lifted my head, took a long shuddering breath, and was finally  able to let him go. ‘I begin to fancy,’ I said, ‘that your company will be  worth all the tribulations that we will no doubt suffer.’ </p>
<p>He seemed speechless, but agreed to my words with a slight  bow. I left him for the night, and went to sit alone in my room. </p>
<p>Still unable to minimise all the dangers and folly of this  new relationship, Raymond’s embrace had at least given me something good and solid  to set against my fears and prejudices. I thought with equal conviction of both  the unnaturalness and the attractions of this liaison, of both the great  happiness and the catastrophe it may cause me. I pondered the somewhat unreal  notion that I was already to burn in Hell for my transgressions, and decided  that I had as well suffer for eternity for something as wonderful as this love  may prove to be. It was an oddly cleansing feeling, to so determinedly throw my  lot in with the Damned. At the end of the night, I was left with the strange  comfort of knowing that I would finally be true to myself, and true to Raymond  as well, if to no one else. Which was two less than the number of people that I  had been lying to at any other time in my thirty years. </p>
<p>My head ached by the time that I joined my friends for  breakfast – I had not had to rearrange my life and my beliefs so thoroughly at  any other time since I was born. Raymond, knowing that I had had so many ideas  to work through, looked at me anxiously when I first walked in, but my smile soon  reassured him that I had not yet turned coward. That day we were both quiet,  politely taking part in the party’s occupations together, barely even  conversing with each other, but content in our companionship. I <em>knew</em> that I should be happy rather than  feeling it to be so. </p>
<p>On the following day Mr and Mrs Cox took me back to London,  and within the week, Doyle visited me there. If his kiss and embrace at  Pemberley had helped me to answer my initial fears, then the glories of having  him in my bed more than settled any lingering uncertainty. This was what I  wanted, and no man would ever convince me that it was anything but good and proper.  A marriage, Doyle insisted on calling our liaison, a union of souls, and the  only blessing either of us required was that of the other’s love. He soon  accused me of sharing his sentimentality and, to my surprise, I found that I  could not argue with him on that score. </p>
<p>As Doyle had suggested, we took an extended tour of Europe.  the better to disguise our new love. When we returned to England, I studied for  a while at Oxford, to take a second degree in the law, and then worked with  Doyle in his barrister’s office. My friends determined on viewing my changed lifestyle  as caused by the inevitable seriousness which comes with advancing age, an  opinion that I simply had to live with. The rumours of our intrigues with  various women continued to circulate for a while, but soon faded clear away. We  were in general thought to be quite a respectable pair of old bachelors! </p>
<p>To my surprise, Doyle soon introduced me to a pair of his  male friends who were living together in London in exactly the same  circumstances as us. It took me a while to feel comfortable with their  acquaintance, I admit this to my shame, but they have proven to be valuable and  staunch friends. Between the four of us, we have had the ingenuity to  successfully combat time and again any threats to our fragile happiness. </p>
<p>My Uncle James, finally despairing of my ever marrying,  though he would never know the true reason, married well and produced the  desired Bodie heir himself. Doyle and I therefore had my young cousins and all  his nieces and nephews on whom we could squander our paternal feelings. It was enough  of a family to suit us both. </p>
<p>We were invited to Pemberley for a few weeks each year, and  never failed to visit for as long as we felt that we could trespass on their  welcome. The Darcys, already among Doyle’s few closest friends, grew to love me  as much as they loved him. The house where we had met, the parks and countryside  in which we had first admired each other and fallen in love, never lost their  beauty for us.</p>
<p>♦</p>
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